


They All Want Me Dead (At Least I'm Breathing By Myself)

by liveonlyza



Category: Forever the Sickest Kids
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-09
Updated: 2010-07-09
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:41:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 8,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveonlyza/pseuds/liveonlyza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kyle is fifteen, and has never been kissed.  Caleb is the boy his older brother warned him to stay away from, but Kyle doesn't know why because Caleb has never been anything but nice to him.  He's quick to find out, but he's too naive to give up on the older Caleb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Kyle Burns was almost your typical teenaged American boy. His parents were divorced, and as a result of his mother's remarriage he now had an older stepbrother. Growing up he'd go to church every Sunday, but after the divorce, his mother never bothered to find them a new church to attend. She was much too preoccupied with her new husband. That's not to say she's never around. Quite the opposite, Kyle's been pretty happy with his new family, and he'd been happy with his family growing up, as well.

The only thing not quite as average about Kyle William Burns was his sexuality. Kyle's mom always claimed that she could tell he was different when he was six years old and she witnessed her son holding another little boy's hand on a playground. Kyle, however, didn't figure out for himself until he was almost thirteen that he'd never had any real interest in girls before like all of his friends were starting to have. He'd never really thought more about a girl than "she's okay". And then he got his first crush (that he remembers) on an older boy named Jonathan.

Kyle had been thirteen and Jonathan was fifteen and had been held back his last year of middle school, bringing the boys into contact. Kyle had mainly just obsessed, but never actually got up the nerve to speak to Jonathan, so nothing would ever happen between them, but after that year, Kyle at least came out of it completely sure of his sexuality. Even if he was fifteen and had never been kissed, he knew that when he did, he would want to kiss a boy.

Kyle Burns is your almost typical, innocent, virginal, gay American teenager, with good friends and a promising future until he meets Caleb Turman.


	2. One

Kyle pulled himself away from the book he was immersed in reading while laying on his bed. It was a Saturday afternoon and as far as he knew, he was supposed to be the only member of his four-person family that was home. Which is why he was startled to attention at the sound of yelling coming from downstairs on the first floor.

Knowing that he wouldn't be able to read or relax anymore until he found out what was going on in the house, he made his way out of his room, down the short hallway, and in about thirty more seconds, he found himself at the foot of the stairs in the kitchen looking out at a scent that he could make no immediate sense of.

What he saw was his older stepbrother by three years, Marc, standing in the front doorway yelling out at another teenager, possibly older, who Kyle couldn't see.

"You dirty motherfucker, I told you to stay away from my house, there's no reason we can't get this shit done at school and never have to see each other, because that would be damn fine with me." In the nearly two years that Kyle had been living with Marc and his father, he'd never heard his stepbrother this angry.

"Marc, please man, I need a decent grade on this shit, man, you know I do." The man's, or boy's (Kyle still had yet to see through the doorway past his stepbrother's hair) tone turned desperate and Kyle guessed that the look on his face was pleading. "They said they're going to kick me out of school if I don't, man. Please, I know you hate me, but please Marc, man, I need this."

After a moment's pause, Marc sighed audibly and stepped to the side. Kyle didn't hear any of the apologies he knew must be spewing from the mouth of the unfamiliar boy/man, as he was much too focused in taking in his appearance. His eye was caught first by the shock of apparently natural red-orange hair that the older boy sported, and then Kyle observed the boy's deep green eyes that seemed to hold more emotion in them than any eyes that he'd ever seen before with his own. Then Kyle noticed his figure, he was gaunt , from his face, to his arms, to the slight bit of protruding hipbone above the top of the stranger's low-rise jeans, he was beyond just thin, and even though he knew nothing about him, Kyle felt worried about him, because he looked pretty unhealthy. After a few minutes of blatant staring, he tuned back into the conversation, glad that no one had noticed him spacing out.

"Fine, Caleb, but only because I feel so fucking sorry for your pathetic ass. Come on, get inside before I change my fucking mind, and watch how you act in my house." Caleb. Kyle couldn't help but space out slightly again thinking about how fitting of a name that was for the worse-for-wear-looking, but beautiful boy that had just walked in his front door. When he came back to himself, he realized that despite how intriguing Caleb was to him, it would be best if he went back upstairs and left Caleb and Marc alone. He turned to climb back up the stairs, but behind him Marc had turned to face the staircase as he shut the door behind his reluctant guest. And Kyle stopped in his tracks when he heard Caleb speak once again.

"Marc, who's that?"

"My little stepbrother. Don't mind him, don't bother him." At this point, Kyle couldn't resist turning around and taking two steps into the kitchen/foyer toward the conversation. Marc noticed. "Kyle, go back upstairs until Caleb and I finish this project, please."

"W-Why? I-I was just going to get a snack."

"Fine, get an apple or something and go back upstairs, Kyle, please." Marc's tone was set forcefully, and his eyes were soft and begging. Kyle really wanted to know what it was about Caleb that was making his stepbrother act so strangely. And as much as he wanted to protest and stick around to possibly find out more about the situation between the two older boys, Kyle resigned himself to nodding and headed back toward the stairs, leaning on his left side so that he could reach out and grab a stray banana out of the fruit bowl as he walked past, deciding that looking back might either make Marc angry or give Kyle the chance to do something embarrassing.

He was half way up the stairs when he heard a strain of words that later, he would assume he'd only imagined hearing.

"Don't get any fucking ideas, Turman."


	3. Two

Kyle waited two hours to leave his room again. His mom and stepdad were still gone, as they would be until the morning, and he'd been able to hear Caleb leave a half an hour ago. He was only just now getting the nerve to go downstairs and ask Marc about what had happened earlier. In Kyle's mind, he was waiting in case Marc needed some time to cool down, since he had obviously been angry at Caleb. But Kyle knew that he'd been waiting because he was nervous to find out anything about the older boy who he'd instantly gotten a crush on.

He found Marc crashed on the couch with an old Nintendo controller seemingly glued to his hand. Kyle knew by the way he kept superstitiously swerving left and right with his whole body that he was observing a game of Mario Cart set on one player versus the system. In the two years they'd lived together, he'd picked up that this was the easiest way for the be-froed boy to unwind. But Kyle was much too curious to just leave the older boy to his relaxation.

"Hey Marc?"

"Oh, hey Kyle. Want to play?" Marc seemed seriously off still, and Kyle accepted the second controller that was being gestured to.

"Yeah, I guess. Um, can I ask you something?"

Marc turned. Obviously he knew what Kyle was going to ask, and went into what his father jokingly termed "new big brother-mode". "Yeah, Ky, you know you can ask me anything."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks." Pause. Deep breath. "Who was that guy here earlier? Caleb?" Instantly, Kyle regretting his curiosity, because the sudden break of calm on Marc's face both saddened and scared him. Obviously this was a bad subject for his stepbrother, why could he just learn to leave it alone?

"Look, Kyle, just trust me on this one. The kid is bad news. Forget his name. And never say it again around me, okay."

"Why won't you just give me a reason?"

"Because I don't want you to know, Kyle. You don't need to know. Just trust me and stay away from the guy, please?"

"I will, Marc. I trust your judgement."

"Okay, now, enough of that. I'm going to kick your ass in this race."

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time Kyle went back to school on Monday morning, he'd almost forgotten about the strange visitor to their house on Saturday afternoon, and the name "Caleb" hadn't even entered the fifteen-year-olds mind for over eighteen hours. And it didn't again until halfway through his fifth period lunchtime.

On a typical day, lunch at school would just consist of Kyle and his best friend since sixth grade, Austin sitting by themselves and keeping content with conversations that were mostly about music.

Today, however, about ten minutes into the period, those conversations were interrupted by a presence suddenly looming over their table and a vaguely familiar voice asking, "Hey! It's Kyle, right?"

Kyle looked up. He saw a shock of red-orange hair and almost passed out from shock. And while he didn't pass out, he was definitely rendered speechless, so Austin stepped in for him after catching the look on his friend's face.

"Maybe he is. Who the hell are you?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? I'm just here to talk to Kyle, I'm a friend of Marc's." Austin looked affronted, and Kyle figured he had best snap out of his shock now before someone started a fight.

"You aren't Marc's friend." Well, he succeeded in refocusing their attention, and subsequently shocking Caleb.

"Well, no. Maybe not. I used to be his friend, though, but I guess maybe he didn't tell you that."

"Whatever, I don't care. Just leave."

"Oh, come on, kid. Your name is Kyle, isn't it? That's what Marc called you."

"Yes, my name is Kyle. What are you even doing here anyway, I've never even seen you at this school before, let alone stalking me into lunch?"

Caleb laughed, and it disturbed Kyle that he found the laugh severely adorable. "I've been going to this school as long as Marc, my whole life. I just don't show up much anymore." He paused to let out another strong laugh that made Kyle want to leap into his arms. "And I'm not stalking you, Kyle. I just wanted to get to know you. I mean, really, Marc and I used to be friends, and you seem interesting." There was another pause as Kyle started taking everything in. Caleb took advantage of it. "So, can I sit here?"

"Umm, sure." Kyle wanted to punch whoever agreed to that stupid, obviously no good arrangement, until he realized that the answer had come from his own mouth.

The rest of the lunch period passed mostly without incident, shockingly to Kyle. Even Austin had warmed up to Caleb a little after they discovered a few similar music tastes between them and a fondness for one obscure horror movie that only the two of them must have ever seen of all the people on the planet. Caleb left the table about ten minutes before the bell was set to ring, saying that he had to make a meeting with the principal about his "frequent truancy" and that maybe he'd see them later in the week.

The whole sitting was less than twenty minutes long, and it left Kyle more confused than he had ever been, including when he was figuring out his sexuality at a young age. He didn't see any real solid reason at all for Marc to detest Caleb so much. Maybe they had grown apart from being friends or something, but that doesn't explain half of the pure hate that Kyle could read in his stepbrother's eyes last Saturday afternoon. And Kyle wasn't sure he even wanted to try to keep his promise to Marc about avoiding Caleb. Not without a good reason.


	4. Three

Two days had passed since the mysterious Caleb had crashed Kyle and Austin's lunch table, and Kyle hadn't seen one sight of the older boy, (not that he'd readily admit he'd been looking around for him), and Kyle was about to revert back to his original belief that Caleb had never actually attended their school in the first place. He'd probably lied about being Marc's ex-friend as well, but he'd never be able to get up the nerve to ask Marc about Caleb again, and he wasn't sure asking and making Marc mad would be worth it. Kyle doubted he'd get any kind of answer at all.

But on the third day after what Austin had dubbed "The Lunch Incident", completely out of the blue, Caleb showed up behind the two younger boys in the lunch line.

"Hey, guys!"

"Umm, hi, Caleb." Kyle had secretly been hoping that this would happen, but now he had no idea what he was supposed to say, so he just went with the most obvious question. "Where've you been?"

"Oh, well, I told you I don't really show up here that much."

"Why not?"

Caleb stiffened. "Ask Marc." Then he let out a slight scoff and exhaled, seeming to brush it off.

"Uh, okay." And then Austin carefully shifted the conversations into much more safe territory, like how hard the Algebra homework had been the night before, and both Kyle and Caleb were thankful for the relief.

\------------------------------------------------------------

A similar pattern continued for the next two days as Caleb was uncharacteristically present at school. Kyle was more curious than ever at why his crush missed so much school, and as Caleb was nothing but increasingly polite to him, he was baffled at what Marc's problem with the thin redhead was. However, Kyle was thankful that Marc didn't know that he had been talking with Caleb, because he didn't even care to find out how much that would anger his stepbrother.

The day following Caleb's continued presence, lunch went differently than was routine. After fifteen or so minutes, Kyle and Austin decided that today must've been one of Caleb's days off. That didn't turn out to be the case, though. Five minutes before the bell rang, the older boy (by two years, they'd figured out in conversation, the boy was a senior along with Marc) made an appearance.

"Uh, hey guys. I'm not really supposed to be here, so I have to say this and go."

"Hey Caleb. What is it?"

"Kyle, do you maybe want to hang out tomorrow afternoon? Like, with me?" Kyle chocked a little on a sip of his drink as he remembered that tomorrow was Saturday and he had to push a brief inner-squeal out of his head, because he realized there was no way Caleb was asking him out.

"Uhm…" Kyle watched the older boy's face fall like he'd heard somehow had died.

"Oh, no, man, don't worry, it's cool, I get it. I'm a useless piece of shit and I know Marc probably told you to keep away from me. I'll just, go now." He stood up to leave, but stopped stunned when Kyle's hand grabbed onto his forearm.

"No, Caleb, that's not it, yes, I'll hang out with you." Caleb didn't react quite as well as a beaming Kyle had hoped, and instantly he found his hand harshly shoved off Caleb's arm.

"Fuck you, okay? I don't need your fucking pity." And he ran off. Kyle just watched and really wanted to cry.

Later, when he should've been doing his homework, he instead kept replaying the scenario in his head. Each time, he said yes without hesitating. But after awhile, he just kept analyzing how the real situation had played out. All he could focus on were how bloodshot Caleb's eyes were and how he had never stopped shaking.

He had to find out what was going on with Caleb Turman.


	5. Four

Caleb wasn't in school for the next four days, and Kyle couldn't help but feel like it was at least partially his fault, because it probably was. Kyle was getting nervous about the whole situation. And worried, as well, since he'd come up with the most plausible explanation for the older boy's frequent absence was probably something about his health. Kyle could only hope that whatever it was, was treatable. Then again, it could be a family problem, but Kyle really didn't like assuming things without Caleb giving him any facts about his situation. They still hardly knew each other.

Soon enough, it was two weeks after they had met, and again, Kyle was spending another afternoon curled up on his bed, reading. This week, it was a novel by Chuck Palahniuk. Again, like most weekends, he was alone with Marc in the house, and much too immersed in reading to even notice when the doorbell rang. He figured it had to be for Marc, so he left it to him. Austin wasn't fond of showing up unannounced, and no one else ever came over for him.

Then there was shouting. And the distinct sound of the front door (instead of any other in the house) slammed. There was more shouting. And Kyle didn't know whether to be scared or curious.

Curiosity wins out, and the fifteen-year-old makes his way down the stairs and onto the first floor of the house. Now he can make out bits and pieces of the shouting. The first he catches sounds like, "just want to hang out" and the second resembles "I told you no".

He recognizes the voices he's hearing and the situation sinks in fast. Kyle skips the last few steps on the staircase and for the moment, just stands a bit behind the doorway into the living room, so that he can see the exchange, but neither of the older boys can notice him yet.

"Marc, get over your issues with me, okay? I just want to hang out with Kyle. You aren't his fucking parent you don't get to make rules and shit for him."

"No, but he's a fucking kid, you fucking faggot, and he's like, all innocent and doe-eyed and shit, and I'm not going to let you fuck him and fuck him up like you."

"You bastard! How dare you call me a fucking faggot, so what I'm gay, I know Kyle is too. He's your stepbrother, you going to call him "fucking faggot" and hit him, too? Or am I just special to you?" Kyle took the deepest breath he could and brought himself into the living room, desperately wanting the fighting to stop, hoping they could just resolve any issues by talking, if either of them cared about him at all.

"Stop it!" Marc's fist froze from where it was half-way to Caleb's face, and both jumped at the sound of his voice. "Just stop fighting, please." Kyle hoped that begging and pouting would make them snap out of it.

"Kyle, just go back upstairs, now. I told you I didn't want you talking to this fucking asshole." Marc's eyes looked terribly betrayed.

"No! I want to know what's going on!"

"Kyle, no. What's so great about him anyway?"

"He's a good friend. He's nice, Marc."

"Nice, ha." Marc's tone was bitter. "You don't know him Kyle, this is all an act he's putting on to get in your pants and fuck up your head."

"Stop fucking talking about me like I'm not in the same fucking room, okay?"

"Shut up, you piece of shit, and leave already! You came for Kyle, you're not getting him."

Kyle scoffed. "He's not "getting" me, like I'm a fucking possession? You don't own me Marc, you can't tell me what to do."

"Kyle, come on, let's leave." Caleb reached out to grab Kyle's arm and lead him out the front door, but Kyle shied away at the last moment. Caleb's face fell, but Marc just looked smug.

"Leave and go where, Caleb?"

"Anywhere. This place I sometimes crash at. It doesn't matter, let's just go."

"After all this? I really don't think I should right now. Maybe some other time?" Kyle looked hopeful, but now it was Caleb's turn to scoff.

"Whatever, kid. You made your choice. I'm out of here." And just like that, he was gone.

"Good riddance."

"Shut up, Marc."

"Oh, get over yourself Kyle, it's just a fucking kid-crush, you don't really want that druggie fuck anyway."


	6. Five

After Caleb's face had blanched and he'd made a run for it, spewing insults on his way out a week and a half ago, neither Kyle nor Marc had seen a second of the "druggie" boy.

Marc hadn't said much else directly to Kyle in that time unless both of their parents were present, to keep up their "united family" front. But Kyle couldn't keep thinking about what Marc had said. Caleb was on drugs? It explained almost everything, but the younger boy still found it very hard to believe. Caleb had, ninety percent of the time been nothing but sweet to him. Hell, Caleb had pulled out his chair for him at the lunch table once. He claimed that Kyle's hands were "too full" for him to have gotten it himself.

Kyle honestly believed that Caleb was too good of a person for what Marc had said to be true. But if it was, Kyle truly thought about it and came to the conclusion that since Caleb was so good-at-heart that there must be a way to get him off of drugs. Kyle believed in Caleb already more than he had ever anyone else.

And even if he had seen Caleb, Marc was using all of the pseudo-older brother powers he possessed to threaten Kyle into staying as far away from "fucking Turman" or "that drugging bastard" whenever he did lend words to the younger boy. Kyle was determined not to let Marc interfere between him and Caleb. Kyle was determined that there would be a "him and Caleb". Kyle was so much more determined that he would be able to fix Caleb.

He hoped Caleb would let himself be fixed. Hell, he hoped Caleb would let Kyle, specifically be the one to fix him. But obviously by coming over to Kyle's house he did. This reason was the soundtrack playing on repeat in Kyle's central nervous system for a week.

That night, Kyle's phone rang. He knew it was Austin, because he was the only person that would call him on a Friday night, or ever.

"Hey, Austin, what's up?"

"Hey, Kyle. Um, I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for? You haven't done anything."

"Yeah, I sort of did do something. And I'm not sure if you're going to be happy about it or not."

"Austin, you're making me worried, just tell me already. It can't be that bad."

"I gave Caleb your phone number!"

"Wh-What?" Kyle was choking on too much shock to even express it. Austin had to be lying, Caleb himself had said that he was "done" with Kyle.

"Really, man, I'm sorry."

"Austin, just tell me what happened."

"Well, somehow he found out where I live. I mean, it probably wasn't that hard. But okay, he came over here like, an hour ago. Like, he just knocked on the door and like, he looked way shaken up. He said he really needed to talk to you, so like, I just gave him your number."

"Why?"

"Because I wasn't thinking, man! Plus, you and him are friends, right? I didn't think it'd be this big of a deal or anything."

"Something happened. You didn't notice him being gone from lunch for a whole week?"

"I just figured that was his creepy never-showing-up thing flaring up or shit."

"No. He and Marc. There was a fight. It's hard to explain."

"Well, you'll have to explain it to me later, because I'm a little lost here."

"Yeah, okay." Beep. Beep. "Hey, Austin, I gotta go, I'm getting a text or something, and it's late."

"'Kay, man. Sorry again."

"Whatever." With a click, he ended the call. And with three more, he was checking his messages, which is something he admittedly didn't do very often because he and Austin never texted, and no one else had his number. But now, someone else did, he remembered. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, because he had a single text message in his phone's history, and it read:

"I thnk I love u. Come see me tonite. –C.T-man."

And if he wasn't prepared for that, he would never be prepared for what happened next. He received a text that contained an address across town. And automatically, he started scheming ways to get there.


	7. Six

After a long minute, Kyle texted Caleb back with an equally simple response to the message he'd received. "Come over now?" Because he didn't want to seem like an inept dork if he came over now and Caleb was sleeping or something.

Kyle tried waiting as patiently as he could for a response from the older boy. But about seventeen minutes later, he was getting worried. Maybe something had happened after Caleb sent the message? Maybe something had happened before the message, and that was really why Caleb wanted him to come over. Perhaps Caleb really missed him and wanted to see him. If that was the case, Kyle would've run there just as fast as for the other reasons.

So he hurriedly put on his shoes and threw on the closest hoodie and quietly snuck downstairs and out the front door. It was a few minutes after midnight, and though he was worried about his parents waking up and seeing him, he was much more worried about being caught sneaking out by Marc who would assume, correctly, where it really was he was sneaking off to.

Luckily the walk across town to the address he'd been given wasn't too long, because it was already the middle of fall and the weather cooled down a considerable amount of a night. However, the walk was long enough for Kyle to have plenty of time to think about the possible situations he could be walking into. Was Caleb hurt? Was Caleb bored? Was Caleb just fucking with him to get back at Marc for something? Or were the contents of his text message true, was Caleb really falling for him? Kyle really hoped that the latter was true, even though he had a slightly bad feeling resting in the pit of his stomach as he made the walk.

Finally though, about ten minutes later, he reached his destination. The house was nicer looking than he expected, but that wasn't saying much, since he'd expected to come upon a falling down, decaying house that served as some kind of crack den. Instead, the house was just older looking, just beginning to fall into a slight state of disrepair and with a lawn that looked as if it were trying to impersonate a small jungle. It took a few deep breaths and a lot of thoughts about just turning and running back home, but Kyle worked up the nerve to knock on the front door only within a minute or two.

The sight that met him was nothing he was prepared for.

Caleb forcefully yanked the door open, and if Kyle had been leaning against it, he surely would've been injured. The older boy looked miserable and disgusting and terrible, and Kyle started to feel sorry for him. Then Caleb opened his mouth and while he wasn't slurring, he definitely sounded intoxicated.

"The fuck are you here for? Who told you where the fuck I even was?" Kyle was taken aback, but realized that Caleb's memory was probably affected by whatever he had taken.

"You sent me a text message, Caleb. You told me to come."

"Like fuck I did! I'm through with you, you little tease. Done."

"Tease? Caleb, what are you talking about? If you think I led you on, I'm sorry, but I don't think I did."

"You little bitch, I--" Caleb broke off as he started to sway and Kyle leaned forward to brace his weight, despite the fact that Caleb looked like he was going to be ill.

"Caleb, why do you do this to yourself? What led you to drugs? Why don't you get help?"

"I don't fucking need help!" As he screamed, almost like a reflex, he pushed Kyle to the ground as his arm swung out and smacked the younger boy hard across the face.

Kyle lay stunned on the floor for what seemed like a dozen moments of still silence. It wasn't until he realized the tears flowing silently from his eyes that he gathered all his strength and picked himself up off of the floor. He made a very strong effort not to make eye contact with Caleb as he turned and walked out the front door of the house and ran all the way home.


	8. Seven

It took until two o'clock in the afternoon the next day before Caleb started to come to out of his previous state of unconsciousness instead of sleep. It was how most days started out for him. He could already feel his pulse beating through the veins in his head, and stood up way too fast to be comfortable, just because he could feel that he'd soon need to make use of the house's bathroom. His stomach was churning over and over, and since it had been three days since he'd eaten, it felt like it was trying to turn in and digest itself.

But aside from those unfortunately familiar feelings, Caleb felt like something about today was different.

He fell back until he was lying against the floor again, curling into a slight ball in an effort to calm his stomach, and as he relaxed, he felt the slight immunity he'd grown to being so hung over so often kicking in as his pulse crawled back to its regular place in the back of his mind. Caleb tried his hardest to ignore his pain and try to remember if anything had happened to make him feel so different about today.

At first, nothing came to him. The last thing he could remember was from maybe ten o'clock. His mother had come home. She'd called him a "useless sack of shit" and kicked him in the ribs, most likely making a fracture that he hadn't felt the pain from through his high. After she pulled him to his feet, she had smacked across his face one time, hard enough that he felt it for twenty minutes afterward, then she grabbed the jacket and purse she had come home for and left.

It had always been like that for Caleb. Ever since he could remember, his family had never loved him at all. They never tucked him into bed as a kid, they never hugged him. Since he was about eight, they graduated from occasional spankings as discipline to full-out hitting him, hard and often. He had to lie about falling out of trees and falling down stairs whenever they went so far that they broke a bone or a few bones.

He'd always assumed that that was why it was so easy for him to get caught up in doing drugs. The people who influenced him and supplied him may not be the best company, but the drugs took away the pain from the blows he got at home, and in some cases, either made him pass out or just gave him a different world to escape to when he was high.

And as he kept thinking about being hit, he kept thinking about doing drugs, and then it came to him. He remembered what had happened last night. And damning his headache and the horrible churning in his stomach that just got worse, he stood up faster than he knew was possible and ran out of the house.


	9. Eight

Kyle had gone straight to bed when he'd gotten home that night. He didn't bother setting his alarm for school the next morning. His mom and stepdad were on a little week-long vacation, so it was just him and Marc, and he knew from three past experiences that Marc wouldn't make him go to school if he felt the need to sleep in.

Really, what Kyle felt the need to do was cry. And he wanted to cry a lot. And he really didn't want anyone to see him before the swelling on his face had a chance to do down. Between the tears and the red handprint, Kyle looked almost as bad he felt. He hated himself for thinking that he'd ever be able to change Caleb. An addict is an addict. Kyle remembered every television program he'd ever seen where the addicts always hurt the ones they loved. Caleb didn't love him, but he liked him, and he had definitely hurt him.

According to his bedside clock, it was almost three o'clock, school would've already been let out if he had gone, when he awoke to the sound of a lot of very loud screaming downstairs. Marc, and someone else yelling back at forth about something. He shot out of bed and ran down the stairs shocked and feeling sick, not caring that he was only dressed in pajama bottom, when he realized that the other voice belonged to the older boy who he'd spent all night crying because of.

Caleb Turman was yelling at Marc, and Marc was yelling louder right back. But Kyle had no way to know what they were yelling about right away, Marc still didn't know that Caleb had hit him, did he? At least Kyle didn't tell him. Maybe Caleb did, and that's what they were yelling about? He didn't know anything until he got down to where the bottom of the staircase let out into the house's dining room.

The sight that met him wasn't really surprising, as it seemed to be happening a lot lately, or at least in the past few months. Caleb was standing just in the front doorway, apparently trying to gain entrance, but being blocked it by Marc, standing directly in front of him. This Kyle was glad for, because he knew at this angle, Caleb wouldn't notice him and he could remain hidden as he chose. For now he just chose to listen in on the continuing argument.

"Marc, I have to see him! Let me in!"

"No, you fucking addict, clean yourself up and then maybe I'll consider letting you in!" That statement made Caleb visibly flinch, and Kyle saw him pause. Then he exhaled deeply and said something that left everyone listening in shocked awe.

"Fine. I'll go to rehab. You don't get it Marc, Kyle's worth that. He's worth more. I'll be back."

Then he turned and left. Marc didn't shut the door after him for ten minutes, lost in a stupor. Kyle forgot how to breathe.


	10. Nine

After the long stretch of stunned silence that seemed to cover the whole house, as it felt like time had grinded to a halt while Caleb turned and walked out, Marc slowly began to shut the door and back up further into the house. Kyle didn't try to hide or go back up stairs when Marc faced his direction, he figured they would have to talk eventually.

Marc sighed. "Kyle, how much of that did you happen to hear?"

"Honestly, just the end of the conversation."

"Well, don't fucking get your hopes up, okay kid? I mean, once an addict always an addict." Marc didn't actually sound as harsh as he could've, saying that, mostly he just sounded hurt. "You can't rely on people to change into what you want them to."

"Marc, will you tell me what happened?"

"Well, he showed up, and he started saying--." Kyle interrupted.

"No, Marc. I mean, will you tell me what happened between you and Caleb? Why do you hate him so much? I get that you'd dislike him for being a drug addict, but I think there's more." Marc sighed again, but this time more deeply and more drawn out, like he was using that sigh to stall having to give an answer, because he had already decided that he should.

"Fine, Kyle. I'll tell you, but only because this guy's pretty obviously not just got a passing interest in you." That brought a slight blush into the face of the younger boy, which made Marc chuckle, and the tension in the room vanished, making it easier for Marc to get out the rest of his words.

"I met Caleb about when I was sixteen okay? Two years ago. I was just a little bit older than you are now. He's like, six months younger than me, but he was sixteen too, then, for the first few months." Kyle could tell that these facts were included to stall as well, but he put up with it because he could see it in Marc's face that this was not an easy story for him to be telling.

"He was just so nice, and he made the most hilarious jokes, and we had the same tastes in music. He used to play guitar… I don't know if he still does, though. We became best friends so fast, it was totally unrealistic, but he was the coolest person I had ever met. Probably still has been."

"And then he got into drugs?" Kyle thought he knew where this was going.

"No, not yet. You know, I don't know if I should tell you this, but if he were here, he'd tell you himself, I'm sure, so I'll just go ahead, I guess." Deep breath. "Kyle, Caleb's parents abused him. Probably still do, I really don't know anymore--"

"So how the hell could you abandon him like that? You left him to deal with them alone! You were his best friend, you should've helped him get out of there."

"What was I supposed to do, Kyle? He didn't want help, and I didn't want to lose my best friend to foster care. He said he could handle it for awhile, and maybe something would change. It's not like I believed him, but I didn't know what else to do. And then he fell in with a different crowd, and we grew apart and he got into drugs." This was a lot of information, but it still left the younger boy largely unsatisfied.

"But that doesn't really equal hate, it just equals like, bitterness and shit. What happened to make you really, really hate him?"

Another sigh from Marc, apparently it was fast becoming his new signature. "He punched me, okay. He was high out of his fucking mind, I went over to his house, and he punched my fucking lights out, Kyle."'

That was finally enough to shut the curious younger boy up. He noticed the similarity there. And now he knew that Caleb had told Marc everything that had happened last night, if his stepbrother had been so reluctant to release that detail.

Kyle really just hoped that when this was all over, he didn't hate Caleb like Marc did.


	11. Ten

It wasn't surprising at all to Austin, Kyle, or even Marc, especially Marc and Kyle, when Caleb wasn't in school for an entire week. It wasn't too out of the ordinary behavior pattern of the drug-addicted, abused teen.

Even though they were best friends, Kyle only gave a vague half-hearted summary of all the events and history of Caleb to Austin. He kind of felt like most of it was too personal, or that he'd be somehow betraying a very unspoken kind of trust between himself and the older boy. Either way, most of him hadn't felt like talking to anyone much lately at all. The only person he really wanted to talk to was Caleb, and since that wasn't an option, he just didn't speak much.

Still, Kyle tried not to get his hopes up too high. He wanted to disregard everything that Marc had said and believe that in a few weeks Caleb would show up clean, happy, and functional, ready to start a relationship. But he knew that recovery rates weren't the highest, and that Caleb had gone through so much abuse in his life through his parents and others that it was likely he'd never really pass as "normal" or healthy. The relationship dream is what Kyle dreamed about at night though.

He dreamed about a Caleb who he could say anything to. A Caleb who would hold him, constantly reassure him that everything in his life was more than fine, and a Caleb he could fall asleep next to, not sexually, because Kyle was sure he wasn't ready for anything on that level yet. And he dreamed of a Caleb who he could kiss, too, softly, passionately, privately, and in public. He dreamed of proving Marc wrong; Marc being happy for the couple anyway.

Mostly, he just dreamed about Caleb.

And he knew it was ridiculous. That he didn't know if the older boy would still have any interest in him after a few weeks had passed, or if he'd still tolerate Kyle's presence sober. Thoughts of what would happen if Caleb relapsed morphed into frequent nightmares of being hit again and again by the hand of the older boy. Some nights, he'd wake up crying.

Four weeks had passed before he knew it. Time passed surprisingly fast, considering he was hardly sleeping, hardly speaking, and hardly eating anything. He imagined in this situation that maybe time was supposed to slow down and remind him every second that he was in pain to give his body the notice to fix itself. Kyle ignored the pain, just kept breathing and living through it.

After awhile, he forgot why this situation even had him so upset in the first place. He'd only actually known Caleb for maybe three months before the older boy ran off to, allegedly, enter a rehab program of some sort. Most of what he knew about the redheaded boy hadn't even been told to him straight from the source, most of it had been told from Marc. If Marc were known to be less reliable than he actually is, than Kyle ran the risk of knowing almost nothing factual about Caleb. This scared him. How could they possibly base a relationship around almost nothing?

Just when he was starting to give in completely, one Saturday morning, there was a knock on the front door.


	12. Eleven

One day earlier:

He came because he knew that Kyle wouldn't be home. It was senior skip day at school, and that was all that mattered. He was no where near ready to go back to that place yet, at all, but all he wanted today was to talk to Marc Stewart. He had more than a few things that he needed to get out.

It took a lot of willpower to keep him from turning and running as he brought up his fist to knock on the front door that was by now becoming very familiar to him. He kept his eyes focused on his feet, mentally justifying it not as nervousness, but as not wanting to trip when he went to leave, which, if he could assume anything from past experiences with Marc, wouldn't be long. He clung to this. Caleb Turman was not afraid.

Since he wasn't looking, he heard the sigh before he saw the older teen that it had come from, and only looked up when he was addressed.

"Caleb. Why are you here?" There was no detectable hostility in the question, so he decided not to return any and just be honest.

"I'm um, here to talk. I have a few things I want to say to you. Can I please come in Marc?"

"Yeah, sure." He stepped aside, and for the first time in over three years, Caleb was welcomed into the Stewart home. Then he was familiarly led back into the family room. He was going to sit down out of reflex, but Marc didn't, and he didn't want to seem like he was assuming anything.

"Marc, I'm clean now. I went through the full rehab program. Almost clean bill of health. And um, my mind's more clear now, and I just wanted to tell you that I know how much of an asshole I was to you now, and I wanted to apologize."

"You're really clean?" Caleb nodded; Marc still gaped a bit. "Well, I mean, I've been thinking about it a lot lately since you've been around more, and I really want to forgive you man."

"Friends again?" Marc shook his head. Caleb's face began to fall, but Marc noticed and was quick to get his explanation out.

"Maybe soon. Right now, I think you have enough on your plate with staying clean and Kyle."

"About Kyle-"

"If you say you've changed your mind, pending friendship or no, I'm going to have to kick your ass. He's been so depressed for these past six weeks."

"No, no, that's not it. That's not it at all. Actually, what I was going to say was my way of trying to avoid getting my ass kicked. I wanted to make sure that it was okay with you for me to ask him to be my boyfriend."

Another sigh from Marc, this time much lighter and with a hint of a laugh though. A good sign that kept Caleb from tensing up and worrying that he may have ruined what he had just so freshly re-established. "Oh, that's totally cool. Hell, again, if you didn't, he'd be heartbroken and I'd have to kick your face in."

"He'd really be heartbroken?"

"Friendship rule number one, Turman, I don't want to know anything about my little brother's relationships. Especially not details."

"Deal."


	13. Twelve [the end]

Present time:

For weeks, Kyle had been jumping at every single ring of their doorbell. He realized it was irrational and unhealthy to keep getting his hopes up for nothing over and over, but he couldn't help it. For weeks he'd been wasting away waiting to see Caleb Turman again, preferably clean and sober, but he'd come to the conclusion that he'd take him either way.

This Saturday afternoon was no different. He probably got his hopes especially higher on Saturdays. He'd met Caleb on a Saturday, it'd been his favorite day for every week since. If there were a time when he thought about the older boy he'd too fast fallen for most, it would be Saturday, but he could never really shake the redhead from his thoughts on any day.

Usually, he allowed Marc to get the door, so he wouldn't have to face his disappointment head on, but today, Marc didn't answer the door after the first knock. He didn't answer after the second set of rapping, either. This prompted Kyle to sigh at being interrupted, but set his book down on his bedside table and take the stairs at a moderately fast pace, not wanting anyone on the other side of the front door to have a chance to give up and leave before being answered.

He was very glad that they didn't leave. Kyle pulled open the door and was about to ask if he could help whoever was there, but his mind forgot what words were, and his throat closed up enough to make breathing difficult.

Caleb. Turman. At his front door. Smiling at him. Less pale. Happy. Oh god, Kyle was sure he was starting to feel faint. Apparently he was, because the next thing that registered in his head was the feeling of Caleb's arms wrapping around his waist to steady him, and being pulled in close to the older boy.

"Whoa, are you okay baby boy?"

"Caleb."

"Yeah, that's me." He chuckled. "Are you okay?"

"Ye-Yeah. I'm fine. You're here."

"Good. And yes, I'm here, I'm not a dream." He stepped forward a little further into the house, lightly pulling Kyle with him by the hold he remained on his waist. "I'm assuming I'm welcomed in, right?"

"Yes, of course you can come in." He paused. "Yeah, Marc's apparently not here, so it's fine."

Caleb's ever present smile widened. "Don't worry, baby, I've talked to Marc, we're not going to fight anymore."

"You talked to Marc?" This seemed to open a floodgate in Kyle's mind. "When did you get out? Where did you go? You are clean now, right?"

"Calm down, Kyle. Yes, I talked to Marc, I had to come here yesterday and ask his permission. I'll tell you the details on these past six weeks later, I promise. All you need to know right now is, yes, I'm clean, and I really do have you to thank for that, you know."

The younger boy took a minute to smile and stare into Caleb's dark but smiling eyes as he took in everything he'd just been told. Then he wrinkled his face in confusion. "What did you have to ask Marc permission for?"

"This." He removed one arm from around the blonde's waist just enough for him to reach a hand into the pocket of his hoodie and pull out a small box. Kyle was getting really confused. "Kyle Burns, you're an amazing, beautiful person, and realizing how much I never wanted to hurt you got me to clean up my life. Will you please, please be my boyfriend?" The box was opened up to reveal a small bracelet, silver chain with two charms; a heart, and a pair of drumsticks. Like when he had opened the door, Kyle's throat closed up, but this time, he was able to get out one word, and thank goodness, it was the only word that mattered.

"Yes."

If Kyle had thought Caleb was smiling before, it was nothing compared to how big his smile became as he once again tightened his hold on Kyle's waist and leaned in to kiss the lips of the boy who saved his life.


End file.
